


A Secret to Give and a Secret to Keep

by vintagelilacs



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bottom Arthur, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Canon Era, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Orgasm Denial, Sex Magic, Tentacle Sex, misuse of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-14 15:30:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18950902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagelilacs/pseuds/vintagelilacs
Summary: Arthur’s worked through his anger and Merlin’s sorcery doesn’t bother him any longer. Truly, it doesn’t. The squirmy feeling he gets when he witnesses Merlin’s magic has less to do with revulsion and contempt and more to do with the fact that a Merlin imbued with power that glows from his eyes and radiates from the pores of his skin happens to be really,reallyhot.





	A Secret to Give and a Secret to Keep

So much could change in a day, Arthur mused. In a single minute, even. He’d always been taught to anticipate betrayal and subterfuge on the battlefield, or even during council meetings and trade agreements, but he’d never expected it to occur on an innocuous day trip in the woods, or from the person he trusted most.

The morning had started ordinary enough. Feeling stifled from the constant constraints and demands of his kingship, Arthur and Merlin had absconded to the woods for a short reprieve. 

Their easy banter and laughter smoothed the lingering worry lines from Arthur’s face and wrested the weight from his shoulders. They spent the better part of the day languishing by a stream, and Arthur admired how the dappled sunlight played across Merlin’s face. Merlin’s eyes were animated and creased with mirth as he relayed some story about Gwaine and a barmaid. It wasn’t uncharacteristic for Arthur to tune out Merlin’s prattle, but this time he devoted himself to memorizing the movements of Merlin’s gesticulating hands, the shape of his full lips as he spoke, and the unrestrained sound of his laughter. 

It was the most relaxed Arthur had been in ages, but perhaps he’d been a little too inattentive to their surroundings. 

When the giant boar broke through the treeline, Arthur was caught entirely off-guard. He should have heard its thundering gait, but the beast was soundless. Its eyes glowed with an unholy, eldritch light and Arthur made the mistake of gazing directly into them.

His scabbard wasn’t even affixed to his belt, and he had no hope of procuring a weapon in time. A strangled shout left his lips, but the boar’s brutal tusks didn’t reach him. Before it could gore him, Merlin darted in front, moving with preternatural speed. With an incriminating flash of gold eyes, a muttered curse, and a broad sweep of his hand, the beast lay dead, its limbs resting at unnatural angles, and Merlin’s secret was exposed like a fresh wound. 

Shock and disbelief enveloped Arthur’s mind in a hazy shroud, but incandescent rage soon perforated the fog of confusion. Merlin-- _his Merlin_ \--had magic. He was liar and a traitor. His supposed best friend had been lying this entire time. 

Betrayal and fury and hurt all roiled in his gut, and before he knew it, he was dry-heaving. A cold-sweat broke over him. 

Merlin’s brows converged, concern firmly etched into the lines of his face. He deliberated for a moment, before striding towards his king. 

“D-don’t,” Arthur ordered, but, as usual, Merlin chose not to listen, and Arthur was too nauseous to prevent Merlin from guiding him into a seated position, murmuring something about Arthur being in shock. 

His chest heaved, and the breakfast Merlin had prepared him threatened to come back up. Arthur hugged an arm around his stomach and sucked in a wet, gasping breath in a final attempt to calm his churning stomach and cease his retching. 

“You’re a sorcerer.” 

“Yes.”

“You lied to me.” 

“Yes.” 

Arthur’s throat closed to the size of a pinprick. He could still taste acidic bile on his tongue. “You didn’t trust me.” 

At this, Merlin hesitated. “I wanted to,” he murmured sadly. 

“I don’t know if I can forgive this.” Even as Arthur spoke the words, he knew them to be false. He suspected there was nothing Merlin could do that he could not forgive. _You could kill me_ he thought, _and I wouldn’t hate you._ And how could he? Merlin had been by his side for all these years. He’d followed Arthur into battle countless times, had ingested poison for his sake, and was the only friend Arthur had ever truly had. At some indeterminable point in time, Merlin had managed to claim Arthur’s heart without even trying. 

“I understand.” Merlin didn’t meet his eyes. Instead Merlin’s gaze centered on his tightly balled hands. They were bleached white from how hard they were clenched. “I don’t regret it, though. I’ve always used my magic to help you, Arthur. If it means you get to live, death will be a worthy price.” 

Arthur’s head pounded, and his heart ached. “Shut up,” he hissed. “Don’t speak of this again, Merlin, or I’ll seriously consider having your tongue removed.” 

Arthur wiped his mouth with the heel of his hand, and clambered upright. On shaky legs he began the trek for Camelot. He only made it a few paces before registering Merlin’s lack of movement. 

His servant seemed rooted to the spot. 

“What the hell are you waiting for? Gather up our bags.” 

Merlin’s lips twitched into a faint intimation of a smile, but it quickly disappeared. Neither of them uttered a word during the journey back.  
  
  
  
The weeks following the reveal of Merlin’s sorcery were spent in terse silence, and George relieved Merlin of the brunt of his duties.  
Everything between them had shifted, and Arthur wondered if they’d ever get back to where they had been. He also wondered if he even wanted to. 

It would be easier if he wasn’t constantly catching snatches of Merlin’s voice in the corridor, or flashes of his dark hair and high cheekbones and ridiculous scarves. If Merlin had left, it would be easier to pretend he’d never existed in the first place, and Arthur would be able to mitigate his lingering hurt. In spite of this, when Arthur caught Merlin trying to sneak out of the palace one night, he’d latched onto his wrist tight enough to bruise. 

“You’re not to leave,” he ordered, voice high with panic. It was the first he’d spoken to him in days. “You can’t.” 

“Arthur,” Merlin said softly. “I was just going for a walk.” 

“Oh.” He loosened his grip, but did not let go. Not right away. 

“I wouldn’t leave you,” Merlin continued earnestly, “and certainly not without saying goodbye.” 

“Oh,” he said again. “That’s good, then. You may… carry on.” 

He started to turn away, but halted when Merlin’s hand alighted on his shoulder. 

“I know you hate me. Or at least hate what I am, but I truly wish things could’ve gone differently.” 

The tremor in Merlin’s voice, and the assured way he said, _I know you hate me_ chilled Arthur to the core. “I don’t hate you,” he countered. “I was angry— _so_ angry, Merlin—but not anymore.” 

It wasn’t the complete truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. He was never capable of being angry when he met Merlin’s gaze directly. His bitterness was cyclical. It intensified and wavered periodically but it wasn’t a constant force. He only hoped that with time it would fade altogether.  
  
  
  
It proved difficult reconciling his clumsy servant with an all-powerful sorcerer, but in time Arthur did indeed learn to accept it. And he accepted it a little _too_ well. His anger and hurt dwindled as he’d hoped, but something equally dangerous reared up in their place.

Arthur had harboured illicit feelings for his manservant for years, but the reveal of Merlin’s magic seemed to have increased his longings tenfold. He didn’t know the precise cause. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect to it, because although Arthur was much more open-minded about sorcery now, his father had worked hard to instil a fear and revulsion of magic in him. Of course, he doubted his father had ever expected that magic would hold such appeal to his own son, but like a naughty child plotting to sneak into the kitchens after hours, he couldn’t rid thoughts of it from his mind. 

He wondered how much Merlin could do with his magic--if he’d ever used it on himself for the sake of pleasure. Even with Arthur’s paltry knowledge of magic, he could tell Merlin was not a minor sorcerer. He had immense power at his disposal, and given how well-kept his secret had been, he had great control over it too. 

_I’ve always used my magic to help you, Arthur._ Merlin claimed his magic was for Arthur, but would he ever use it _on_ him? The idea sent a small frisson of fear through him, but it was quickly chased with arousal. 

Merlin could do whatever he wanted to Arthur. All those times Arthur had berated him for langouring in the tavern, or mocked him for his clumsiness… did he ever imagine putting Arthur in his place? When Arthur used him as target-practice, was he ever tempted to overpower Arthur? To hold him down and show him just how strong he really was? 

These were the thoughts that harassed Arthur on the nights when his skin felt too tight and his body too warm. They left him lax and boneless and uncomfortably sticky. 

George was luckily discreet enough not to comment whenever he changed the bedding. 

But unfortunately, it wasn’t George who attended him that morning. 

He awoke to a knock on his door. It wasn’t the crisp rap George consistently used, but was oddly tentative. 

“Enter,” Arthur called out, his voice slurred from sleep. The sight of Merlin in the entryway jolted him to full alertness. 

“Merlin? You… you knocked.” 

“Erm, yes. Don’t get used to it, though. I brought your breakfast.” And a heaping tray full, no less.

“I thought George--” 

“I gave George the morning off.” 

“You don’t have the authority to do that.” 

Merlin’s lips compressed, frustrated. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t mind.” 

Arthur scrunched his eyes shut. “I don’t--never mind. It hardly matters. You may go, Merlin.” He swung his legs off the bed and stood. 

Merlin hesitated. “Let me dress you. Or change your linens, at least.” 

There was absolutely no chance of Merlin changing and laundering his sheets without noticing the plentiful evidence of Arthur’s late-night activities. “That won’t be necessary.” 

“Why not?” 

“I’m your King, Merlin. You don’t question me.” 

“I know you’re my king.” Merlin’s lips trembled. “But you used to be my friend as well.” 

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “I am.” 

“It’s been a fortnight and you’ve barely said more than five words to me at a time. It’s only ever ‘thank you, Merlin’ or ‘that’ll be all, Merlin’ or ‘George will relieve you today, Merlin.’ Lately I’ve had longer conversations with Geoffrey for god’s sake!” 

“I’ve been busy,” he lied.

Merlin predictably saw right through him. “No, you’ve been avoiding me.” 

Arthur examined his quilt, counting the individual threads. 

“You said you weren’t angry anymore,” Merlin plowed on. The air seemed to crackle with tension. Arthur wondered if it was Merlin’s magic that was causing all his nerve-endings to light up. 

“I’m not,” he protested half-heartedly. 

“Then why are you avoiding me? You know I have magic and you said it didn’t bother you anymore!”

“It doesn’t!”

A muscle in Merlin’s cheek jumped. “Don’t lie to me, Arthur.” His voice came out as a low rumble, like a distant roll of thunder. Layers of coercive magic and suggestion underlied his words.

Fuck. Arthur really couldn’t handle an authoritative Merlin, and especially not within his own bedroom while he was half-naked and only clad in sleeping trousers. Heat curled deep and low in his belly and he felt certain parts of his anatomy stir. 

“Don’t forget,” Merlin added, “I can make you tell the truth if I want to.” 

_You already are, you idiot,_ Arthur thought viciously. He had to bite down hard on his tongue to keep from spilling the truth that Merlin demanded from him. 

“Does my magic really disgust you so much? Is that why you’re avoiding me?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Arthur had only taken a single step in the opposite direction when Merlin thrust his hand outwards, his magic forcing Arthur to turn towards him against his will. Merlin’s eyes were a bright, refulgent gold and his entire being radiated power. 

“Why do you keep me around when you think I’m just a filthy, low-bred sorcerer?” His voice was practically a growl. 

_Shit,_ Arthur thought. This was veering way too close to the fantasies and dreams he regularly indulged in. The front of his trousers tented with his arousal, the apex of which had a very obvious moist spot. The bulge of his cock seemed both obvious and obscene, but he prayed Merlin wouldn’t notice. 

He shifted, but any attempts to angle his body away were stopped by the invisible force of Merlin’s magic. All Arthur’s subtle shifting accomplished was drawing Merlin’s fierce gaze downwards. 

Merlin immediately faltered, the gold fading from his eyes and restoring them to their natural deep blue. Arthur’s cock gave a little twitch at the acknowledgement. “Arthur, are you…?” 

“It’s because it’s hot!” he blurted. 

“It’s… what?” 

Arthur grimaced, blocking out Merlin’s stunned expression. 

“Answer me,” Merlin ordered. Arthur wondered if Merlin was even aware that he was actually compelling Arthur to obey him. 

Through gritted teeth Arthur replied as matter-of-factly as possible, “I said it’s _hot_. I find your magic, and you performing magic to be arousing.”

“Really?” He sounded pleasantly surprised. 

“I’ve had dreams,” Arthur confessed, because what the hell. He’d already embarrassed himself beyond recovery. “Do you know how many nights I’ve soiled my sheets because of you?” 

Merlin gaped. “You really like the idea of my magic? I thought you’d be repulsed.” 

“I could never be disgusted by it,” he said honestly. “Not when it’s a part of _you._ ” 

“You’re such a clotpole,” Merlin said, his voice exuding fondness. Arthur’s chest ached at hearing the insult. He really should be offended, but it warmed him the way a tender endearment would most people. 

“What, um,” Merlin’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, “what usually happens in your dreams?” 

His cheeks went hot at the mere idea of revealing his fantasies. “It usually starts with us kissing,” he admitted. 

Merlin bridged the distance between them. His long-fingered hands cupped Arthur’s face, and after searching his eyes for permission, he pressed their mouths together. Merlin’s lips were plump and soft and they established a slow rhythm, before Merlin pulled back. 

“Like that?” 

“You’re usually a bit more forceful than that.” 

“Oh, am I?” he smirked. 

“That is kind of the point. You using your magic on me and taking what you want.”

His eyes widened. “Is that really what _you_ want?” 

Arthur tried not to reveal how mortified he was. “Not… if you don’t.” 

“Arthur, I’d have to be an idiot not to want you. It’s just… surprising. Five minutes ago I thought you were disgusted by my magic and now I find out you want me to use it. On you.” 

“It’s not my fault you jumped to erroneous conclusions,” he huffed. “As usual, I might add.” 

Merlin leaned forwards to nip at his lower lip. “What do you want me to do with my magic?” 

“Everything,” he croaked. “Anything. I just want you in control.”

“It must be difficult,” Merlin said, sympathetic. “Kings don’t get many opportunities to relinquish their power. You always have to be rigid and composed. What would the court say if they knew what you really wanted?” 

Merlin’s words sent his heart racing. Blood rushed through his ears. 

“What would they call you, I wonder? We have a word for people like you in Ealdor. Do you want to know what it is?”

Arthur whimpered his assent. His prick felt harder than steel, and he was already so wet with precome. 

Merlin’s wet lips brushed his ear. _“Cockslut._ ” 

He shuddered violently. 

“That’s what you are. You don’t deny it, do you?” 

Arthur shook his head, but Merlin wasn’t satisfied. 

He nipped at his jaw. “I asked you a question, Arthur.” 

“N-no.” 

“No you _aren’t_ a cockslut? Or no you don’t deny it?” 

He clenched his jaw. “No, I don’t deny it.” 

“Mm, good boy.” 

His cock twitched at the praise, and from Merlin’s growing smirk, it didn’t go unnoticed. Arthur could hardly believe how filthy Merlin was capable of being. He’d always known Merlin had a mouth on him, but he’d never even imagined Merlin’s insouciance would travel into the bedroom. 

None of the women, or even men, he’d been with in the past would have dared speak to him in such a brazen manner. Merlin’s words were filthy and uncouth, and no one of noble breeding would have considered uttering them. 

“What should I do to you first?” Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but Merlin cut him off before he could speak. “Oh, you don’t get any input Arthur. I’m in control of you now, remember?” He tilted his head in silent contemplation. “I think you’re wearing a few too many layers.” 

Merlin muttered something that Arthur couldn’t parse, and before he could process what was happening, his trousers slid right off. It was instinctive to pull them back up, and he only just restrained himself. Seeing his trousers fall so suddenly struck a chord in his memory, recalling a past incident during a council meeting. 

“Have you done this before?” he wondered. 

“Undressing you is one of my daily duties, if you’ll remember.” 

“With magic,” Arthur clarified. “Have you… was that you? During the council meeting with Agravaine?” 

Merlin cleared his throat. “In my defence, I had a valid reason.” 

“I’m sure you did.”

“Mhm. Just like I have a valid reason to do this.” Another flash of gold eyes, and Arthur was deprived of his undergarments as well. He felt the heat of Merlin’s gaze like a physical touch. Merlin assessed him, lingering on his smattering of chest hair and defined stomach, down to his broad thighs, before eventually settling on the dark heavy bob of his cock. 

Being the focus of Merlin’s intense, steadfast stare sent what little blood remained in his body rushing between his legs. His cock plumped even further, and if he’d been alone, he would’ve already taken himself in hand. 

Merlin licked his sinful pair of lips. “I’m going to enjoy taking my time with you.” 

Merlin’s eyes flashed, and in the next instant, Arthur was lifted into the air and deposited unceremoniously onto his bed. He spluttered indignantly at the treatment, but was grateful to have a solid surface beneath him. His legs had begun trembling so violently he was sure they would’ve buckled in a matter of minutes had he been forced to continue standing. 

“You’re so attractive,” Merlin murmured. “Back in Ealdor there were rumours of Camelot’s handsome prince. I always thought it was exaggerated, but it’s true. You’re beautiful, Arthur. I want you so badly. Want your cock. Want to have you.” 

Merlin followed him onto the bed, but his words were misleading. He didn’t reach below Arthur’s waist, even when he bucked his hips up demandingly. Instead, his hands stroked over his jaw and thumbed at his lip, before tracing over his collarbone and the juncture between neck and shoulder, as if intent on memorizing every inch of skin. He followed the path his hands explored with his lips, mouth angling into the sensitive skin between jaw and neck. His tongue peeked out to tease at Arthur’s pulse point before wandering lower. Gooseflesh erupted over Arthur’s bare skin. When Merlin’s touch skated over his nipples, he let out an embarrassing keen. 

Arthur had never been touched like this before. Merlin wasn’t just touching and mouthing at him; he was worshipping him with his lips and tongue. Arthur tried to reach down to grip at his aching cock, but Merlin caught him before he could. Invisible restraints wrapped around his wrists, pinning them above his head. 

He felt Merlin’s smirk rather than saw it, the devilish curve of lips pressing into his chest. Merlin leaned back to lay his palms over Arthur’s chest and gave his pecs a squeeze. 

The intense look on Merlin’s face stole his breath and made his lungs seize. Merlin stroked through his sparse chest hair and down the contours of his abs. Arthur’s taut belly quivered. All of his fantasies for the past five years had starred Merlin as the foremost character, but he’d never imagined the heat of his mouth or the touch of his calloused hands would feel so good. 

“P-please.” 

“Begging already?” Merlin’s voice was infuriatingly calm and unaffected, but a glance at his lower half revealed that wasn’t quite the case. 

“Take off your damned clothes,” Arthur ordered. “I want to see you.” 

“You’ll see me when I decide,” he answered evenly. 

Arthur tried to thrust his hips up again, desperate for any sort of contact, but Merlin’s magic kept him pinned firmly to the bed. Arthur wondered if Merlin could sense his struggle, if he felt Arthur fight against the boundary of his magic. 

Finally Merlin divested himself of his peasant garb, magically revealing his lean, pale form. Merlin lowered himself so that they were pressed chest-to-chest and groin-to-groin. The points of contact between their bodies was electrifying. Arthur sobbed from how good it felt. 

Merlin’s body was trim and lean where Arthur’s was bulky and defined, but despite his lankiness, Arthur knew Merlin possessed impossible strength. He could hold Arthur down with his will and magic alone.  
Merlin closed his hand around Arthur’s cockhead, his grip firm and confident. He tested the heft of his cock, before tracing the prominent vein on the underside.

“All those times I joked you were getting fat. I never realized a part of you already was.” 

Arthur’s cock twitched at the insult embedded praise. 

“I want to get my mouth around your prick, swallow you down and taste you. It’s a shame I can’t suck you and penetrate you at the same time, isn’t it?” Merlin stilled. “Oh, wait. I have magic, so actually I can.” 

Under other circumstances, Arthur would never have allowed the embarrassing whimper that followed to escape. 

True to Merlin’s word, his mouth closed around the head of Arthur’s leaking cock, and Arthur felt something that was decidedly not Merlin’s fingers prod at his entrance at the same time. The dual sensation of hot suction around his cock and teasing around his hole made his chest heave. His heart was battering his ribcage, and he felt as winded as he did after an arduous battle. 

Merlin pulled off his cock with a wet pop. He cupped Arthur’s bollocks with one hand and gave them a gentle tug, and palmed at his arse with the other. All the while Arthur felt the same questing touch circle the most intimate part of him. 

“I’m going to touch your hole,” Merlin asserted. “Feel how hot you are inside.” 

“How?” Arthur panted, grinding back against the pressure wriggling inside his tight hole. 

Merlin’s eyes shone with lemon-gold brilliance. “Magic is a wonderful thing, Arthur.” 

For the first time in his life, Arthur completely believed it. 

Merlin husked out an incantation and oh… gods, Arthur could feel his hole widening, could feel copious amounts of slick dripping from it. Merlin hadn’t even needed to prepare him with his fingers, hadn't needed oil to slicken the way. Arthur’s entrance was gaping open, begging to be stuffed full. 

He was dizzy with lust, spots dancing over his eyes. “I’m… I’m coming.” And he was. He knew he was, and yet… he didn’t. 

“Oh, Arthur.” Merlin sighed fondly, as if Arthur was naive and innocent. “You don’t get release until I decide.” 

Again Merlin spoke in that coarse, unintelligible dialect. Arthur couldn’t discern what Merlin was saying. It definitely wasn’t the common tongue, and he suspected it might have been the language of the Old Religion. As soon as Merlin finished speaking, Arthur’s legs spread without his consent, forcing him on proud display. Instead of panicking, the loss of control only excited him. 

Merlin’s hand squeezed around his cock, thumb rubbing over the head and spreading the fluid gathering there. He lowered his winsome mouth back over Arthur’s cock, suckling the head and laving it with his tongue until it was nice and wet with his spit. At the same time, a tendril of magic wound itself in on a sinuous screw and began fucking in and out of Arthur’s body. 

Invisible tendrils of magic forced Arthur’s legs open and held him there, while a second coil slid between his cheeks, circling and probing, before lightly pushing in to join the first. Merlin’s magic pistoned in and out of him with agonizing slowness. Just when Arthur was going to snap at him for the slow pace, it sped up, as if sensing his frustration. Merlin’s magic thrust in and out with brutal force, shunting him up the mattress each time it entered him. 

Merlin’s breathing grew ragged, and a thought struck Arthur. “C-can you feel them?” he choked out. 

Merlin slid wetly off his cock. Arthur instantly mourned the loss of his mouth, but he had to know. Merlin’s chest rose sharply and fell. “Arthur,” he chided. “Magic is an extension of me. Of course I can feel it.” The tendril inside of him began to expand inside him, and he gasped from the fullness. “I can feel _everything_.” 

The tendril pressed unerringly along his prostate. He jolted on the bed. 

Merlin groaned. “You’re so warm inside. And soft. What does it feel like? Knowing I’m inside you?”

Arthur clamped his lip between his teeth. “I need-I need your cock.”

The twin tendrils of magic in his body expanded. He’d never felt so full or so desperate for more. 

“Is this not enough for you?”

He shook his head. “I-I want your cock.” He was aware he sounded like a harlot, but he was beyond caring. “I want you to fill me with your seed.”

The tendrils pressed once more along his prostate, before withdrawing. His hole immediately clenched, seeking out that firm pressure. He felt so empty. Then without warning, Merlin jammed three fingers inside his already loosened hole. 

“You don’t ha- _ave_ to do that.” Arthur was already loose and empty due to Merlin’s spell, and being fucked by his magic. 

“Oh, Arthur I know.” He pumped his fingers in and out. “I’m doing it because I want to.” 

It was too much. Too much stimulation, and nowhere near enough. As much as he wanted this to never end, he was desperate to come. Merlin’s fingers dragged slowly over that small gland inside him, sending spots of light to coruscate across his vision. “That feel good?” Merlin asked with a mocking lilt, as if he couldn’t see for himself that Arthur’s cock was positively dripping. 

“ _Merlin!_ ” 

“All those times you made me slave away and wait on you, and what you really wanted wasn’t a docile servant. It was someone capable of putting you in your place.” 

Coils of Merlin’s magic tightened around Arthur’s thighs, flipping him over and pinning him to the bed. A weight immediately settled over him, not painful or crushing, but firm. He tested it, tried to raise his hips and arch his back, but the magic had no yield. Once again, he was trapped. Helpless, even. He moaned louder than he ever has in his life. 

Arthur’s eyes fluttered shut as Merlin began to enter him. He knew for a fact that Merlin wasn’t any bigger than his own cock, but in that moment he felt _huge_. Merlin’s cockhead eased past the rim. Arthur should’ve been more than loose enough to take his cock. His hole had felt gaping wide only moments ago, and yet he could feel Merlin’s cock stretching him open. Sweat pooled along Arthur’s lower back. “Did you…” his cheeks burned from even thinking about what he was about to ask. He felt filthy. “Did you make my hole tighten?” 

“Mm,” Merlin made a noise of affirmation. “I want to feel my cock open you up again.” 

He swiveled his hips, grinding his cock hard and deep inside. 

“You love this, don’t you? Being taken by a lowly servant? And a sorcerer at that.” Merlin’s breath was uneven and rough. “What would the kingdom think? What would your father say if he could see you now?”

Arthur’s cock positively throbbed at Merlin’s words. “M-Merlin.”

“Have you thought of this often? Me pinning you down and taking you?” 

Arthur made a hiccuping sob. His shame only heightened his arousal. Again his prick spasmed, trying desperately to come, only to be thwarted by a tightening pressure of Merlin’s magic around the base. 

Merlin’s hips stilled. “I expect an answer when I ask you something.” 

“ _Yes._ Fuck, yes!” 

“I think next time I’ll fuck you with my magic while I ride you. I’ll use you until I’m satisfied and you won’t be able do anything. Would you like that?” 

Arthur moaned. With Merlin’s magic, he didn’t really need Arthur’s cooperation. He didn’t need him to move or meet his thrusts. All he really needed was Arthur’s hole. 

“I have to say, it seems a bit unfair that I’m doing all the work. As usual, I should add.”

Before Arthur could protest, Merlin’s magic had lifted him up and off of him, and kept him suspended partially in the air. 

“Merlin,” he pleaded. He felt no shame in begging, not when his need was so great.

Merlin crawled back until he was settled against Arthur’s silk pillows. “Mm,” he hummed. “Much more comfortable than the cot you had me sleeping on for so many years. Quite inconsiderate of you.”

Arthur couldn’t begin to fathom how Merlin could possibly sound as composed and put together as he did. Merlin relaxed further, tilting his head back and closing his eyes before knitting his hands behind his head. 

“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice was strained with impatience and desperation. 

Merlin cracked an eye open. “Oh, I’m sorry, Sire. Do you still have need of my cock?”

He was going to throttle him. After he was done getting fucked by him, of course. 

Merlin’s eyes blazed like burning brass. Arthur was carried by an invisible force, his dripping opening lowered onto Merlin’s cock. 

He moaned at the welcome thickness that entered him. He was helpless to the pull and sway of Merlin’s magic as it maneuvered his body, bobbing him up and down on Merlin’s swollen length like some sort of fucktoy. Merlin’s breathing was ragged, and his chest mottled with red, but he maintained the illusion that he was unaffected quite well. He appeared relaxed, and seemed content letting his magic do all the work for them. 

Merlin’s breath became even more erratic. His hands migrated to Arthur’s hips, and his fingers dug in forcefully as his magic bounced Arthur up and down on his cock. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. And you’re mine.” 

“Yes,” Arthur agreed. He didn’t even think to deny it, and how could he? He was Merlin’s. Only Merlin’s. 

Merlin let out a drawn-out groan. The next time his magic lowered Arthur down, Merlin’s hips jerked up, plunging his cock nice and deep. 

A soft tremor signaled the start of Merlin's release. Arthur could feel Merlin begin to come, could feel his cock spasm and jerk. Merlin’s lashes fluttered madly and his plump lips fell open. Hot fluid pulsed inside Arthur, filling him with seed. 

Once Merlin collected himself, he slowly pulled out. 

Arthur whined at the loss, unable to lift his eyes from the sight of Merlin’s cock, even as it softened. _He’s so long_ , Arthur thought. He wasn’t sure how Merlin had even managed to fit inside him. 

“My poor king,” Merlin sighed, sounding drunk with pleasure. “You’re so desperate, aren’t you?” 

A choked noise escaped him. Arthur’s cock was flushed a dark purple, and his bollocks had been drawn up and ready to empty for a while now. He’d been on the precipice of ecstasy for too long, and he felt like his entire body was going to burst. 

“Just think, I could keep you from coming for as long as I want. I could make it so you’ll never find sexual relief again unless it’s by my hand. Or my cock.” 

“Please, Merlin.” He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. 

Merlin used his magic to lower Arthur onto his back, before rolling over so he was raised above him. Merlin’s long, slim fingers kneaded at his cock. _“Come for me.”_

The pressure around Arthur's cock lifted. He felt like a bowstring that had finally been released. 

Pulse after pulse of come spurted out of his cock, hitting his chin and the canopy over his bed. It continued until he couldn’t believe his body was even capable of producing so much. 

Arthur’s vision whited out. He felt floaty, like his soul had been severed from his body. 

When he came to, it was to see Merlin’s face creased with uncertainty. Arthur reached out sluggishly to twine their fingers together. Merlin’s lips melted into a warm smile, and he nuzzled at the side of Arthur’s face. 

After a few moments of basking, Arthur swept a hand through the cooling spend coating his belly. “I’ve never, er, produced so much.” 

“Sorry,” Merlin said sheepishly. “I got a little carried away.” 

“If you’re seriously apologizing,” Arthur sucked in a breath, “You’re a bigger idiot than I thought.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. In fact I’ve never met anyone so stupid.”

“I meant about the not needing to apologize part. You were really okay with everything?”

Arthur really couldn’t believe Merlin felt the need to apologize when evidence of Arthur’s copious release was still splattered between them. “I was more than okay with it. I liked it. I wanted it. Hell, I loved it. You and your magic, Merlin, you have no idea. I never want you to change.” 

Arthur felt Merlin’s hand tremble where their fingers were joined. He gave Merlin’s hand a small, reassuring squeeze. 

“I was so afraid you would hate me. That you would hate me for my magic.” 

“ _Never_.” 

“It likes you, you know,” Merlin added. “My magic.”

A furrow appeared between Arthur’s brow. “You speak of it as if it were sentient.”

Merlin shrugged. “It’s complicated, but not all of that was me. I only meant to fuck you open with one tendril of magic, but my powers often get carried away and do what they want.” 

Arthur considered saying ‘I wish your magic and your cock could be inside me all the time’ but he knew there was no way he could get away with saying that without being mercilessly teased. “I’ve never, erm,” Arthur stumbled over his words. “Released this much seed.”

Merlin amended his earlier statement. “I _really_ got carried away.”

“Wait, you were the cause of…?”

Merlin’s cheeks reddened. “I found it hot. Watching you come for so long and so hard and knowing it was because of me.” 

Arthur’s oversensitive cock gave a tiny twitch despite his exhaustion. Merlin had done that, had caused him to produce so much come, and all because he’d wanted to see evidence of Arthur’s release. “Why, Merlin. I had no idea you were so depraved.” 

His manservant-turned-sorcerer smirked. “You don’t know the half of it. I’ve been dressing you and helping you bathe for years. I’ve had plenty of time to imagine debauching you.” 

“And here I thought I was the pervert.”

“You are! Having your way with your poor, innocent manservant like that.”

“Innocent?” He chuckled, reaching forward to thumb Merlin’s bottom lip. “Not with that mouth of yours.” 

“If we do this again I’ll try not to make as much of a mess,” Merlin vowed, before nipping at Arthur’s thumb. 

“I don’t mind. You’ll be the one cleaning the sheets, after all.”

“Can’t we get George to do it?” 

Arthur pretended to consider it. “I suppose that would be a fair punishment for all his brass-related jokes.”

“You see? It works out perfectly.” 

“Mm. I feel I should warn you, I’m going to need to sleep a good week to recover from this.” 

“I’ll be sure to arrange it,” Merlin promised. “But whatever will I tell Leon and the other knights?” 

Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin’s neck. “It’s alright if you keep some secrets. As long as they’re not from me.”


End file.
